Where the undead roam
by WhiteOokamiKiss
Summary: *SPOILERS* It should have been the same as any night, but it wasn't. The problem with this one was that the dead were rising from their graves. Jack and Eva, thrown into the mess, have to work together to find a cure to the epidemic. Jack/OC
1. On a night like this

**A/N - The new story for Undead Nightmare! This is a sort of spin-off from Where the buffalo roam. This involves Jack and Eva and is completely independant from the other story. What happens in this will not affect Where the buffalo roam. You don't _have_ to read W.T.B.R but having a quick skim and understanding it would help. There will be some Jack/OC, but not as much as W.T.B.R, however, there will be lot's of zombie killing! Yay! Enjoy! And happy Halloween!**

Chapter 1 – On a night like this.

Thunder rumbled overhead as clouds as dark as coal rolled in. A storm was approaching from the south west and presented a menacing front. The town of Blackwater was swallowed into darkness by the monster as it circled above us. I stood petting my horse's velvety muzzle as my hazel eyes were turned skyward, watching the ominous clouds with growing apprehension. The storm looked strong and dangerous, bringing with it the promise of heavy rain and the dreaded thunder and lighting. The day had started fine, the autumn sunshine now seeming like a long lost memory. I turned my eyes from the sky to watch Jack as he emerged from the gunsmiths. I offered him a smile and held out his horse's reins to him. "Did ya get what ya need?" I asked, nodding towards his satchel. Jack nodded in confirmation.

"Yep. I sold a few pelts and bought some ammo." Thunder rumbled overhead like an angry beast and Jack looked up to the heavens. Adjusting his hat he said, "That storm doesn't look too good. We oughta' be gettin' back to Beecher's Hope before it rains." I also looked up and felt the first droplets of rain hit my skin.

"Yeah... let's get goin'."

Jack and I mounted our horses and galloped back to Beecher's Hope, Jack's home. On the way, what started out as a few innocent droplets turned into a light shower, signifying the start of the storm. It was enough to dampen my clothes and make the outer layers stick uncomfortably to my body. Jack eyed me before offering me his jacket. I stubbornly shook my head and told him I was fine. "You sure? You're lookin' a bit damp," he said, chuckling at my soaked hair, clothes and thoroughly dampened spirit. "I said I was fine. I aint gonna let a little bit of rain make me uncomfortable," I said, pouting at the dark clouds. Jack again chuckled and plucked his hat off his head. "Well at least wear this to keep your head and neck dry." Slowing Dash down and drawing him closer to Jack's golden stallion, I took the hat and put it on, adjusting it on top of my tied in a bun hair. "Thank you," I said, blushing and moving Dash away from Jack's, giving the horses space. Jack smiled and nodded in return.

We slowed as we came to the north entrance of Beecher's Hope, where the sparse, open grasslands of the Great Plains met the pines and oaks of Tall Trees. Beecher's Hope was a lovely, small ranch that Jack had grown up on. It had a homely house, with plenty of rooms and space, as well as a barn and small paddock, and a silo for corn. It also had a gazebo to the side for basking in the summer glow as well as a fence boundary stretching around the property. This place was like a little patch of heaven, despite its rundown appearance – caused by lack of Jack's presence and attention. We turned in at the gate and trotted down the winding path to the farm house. I could see the silo looming in the distance as well as the tree on the nearby hill, swaying with the wind. On that hill were three graves; one for Jack's father, one for his mother and one for his Uncle – who wasn't actually his uncle, according to Jack. The graves were small and had homemade headstones, constructed of wood. Engraved into the wood were meaningful messages as well as the names and dates of birth and death. I remembered the first time Jack had brought me to the graves. He had quietly explained the story behind them and together we stood in a solemn silence, Jack reminiscing about past memories and me thinking back to my own pain. My mind had reeled with a barrage of emotions as I thought about how Jack must feel. Jack must have been so lonely...

I snapped out of my inner thoughts and looked to the hill as we approached and - not expecting anything – was terrified to notice a lone figure standing by the graves. My heart rate increased rapidly, even skipping a few beats and my stomach churned. I was sure I let a little squeak slip past my pale lips in surprise. Jack turned to me and asked, "Is everything alright?" I shook my head no as my hand moved towards my trusty revolver.

"Up there on the hill, there's a man," I stated, pointing in the direction of the startling figure. Jack frowned in confusion before he too noticed the strange man.

"What the..." he muttered as he slowed his horse to a stop.

We were now halted near the empty silo, gazing up at the intruder. The figure turned slowly and waved down to us. I gulped down my confusion and fear and turned to the man beside me. "Do you know him?" I asked. Jack shook his head and frowned.

"No." He slipped his feet from the stirrups and climbed down from the saddle, taking his horse's reins and passing them to me. I accepted them without objection.

"Wait here while I go see what he wants," Jack ordered, eyeing the man suspiciously. The figure just stood still, turned towards us, but I could almost feel the grin radiate off him. I shivered, whether it was from the bone chilling rain and biting wind or the overall creepiness of the situation I don't know. Either way, I couldn't deny the swell of curiosity the rose within me. "But Jack, I wanna know who he is too!" I objected. Jack shook his hatless head, whipping a few droplets from his hair.

"No Eva, he could have a gun on him and he might not be here for friendly reasons." I opened my mouth to argue but hesitantly agreed after receiving a sharp look from Jack. I sighed, "Fine, but please be careful." Jack smiled and patted a wary Dash on the neck.

"I will," he said before turning and marching up the small hill.

I watched with baited breath as Jack approached the unknown man and was nervous to see what this amounted to. Would he pull his gun out? Was he an old friend? Was he here for friendly reasons? All these questions and more swam through my head as I watched carefully Jack and the man exchange unheard words. Once I saw Jack relax a little I let out a sigh of relief but reminded myself that this guy could still be dangerous. _Just remember Eva, he could pull a gun out at any second._ I narrowed my eyes and debated whether to go over and back Jack up. He had ordered me to stay, but my stubborn streak was shining through, telling me that I deserved to be a part of this. What if something happened? My presence beside Jack jus' might well save his life! Mind made up, I spurred Dash into a walk and led Jack's stallion and halted them near the small paddock behind the barn and looped their reins over the wood. Patting Dash, I looked up at the two figures on the hill. The rain had worsened and was coming down increasingly heavy – leaving me soaked through to the bone. I sighed at the weather before walking towards Jack and the strange man.

I ascended the hill and drew closer to the two men. I walked over and under the protection of the tree, slipping out of the relentless downpour and into a little shelter. The fresh smell of rain filled my nostrils and the patter of the droplets colliding with the ground filled my ears. Lightning cracked in the background, splitting the sky in two. For a few seconds it illuminated the man in an almost heavenly light before it disappeared and the world descended into gloomy darkness, thunder following suit. The mysterious man grinned and nodded respectfully towards me, spotting me standing with my arms hugging myself. "Good evening Eva – or do you prefer Evelyn?" The man was dressed in a neat suit, with a large top hat perched proudly on his head. His words rattled within me like a coiled snake. _How does he know my name?_ This was the first question in my brain as I frowned warily at the man. Then, almost automatically, I added, "Eva's fine."

The man chuckled to himself while Jack took to my side. "I thought I told you to stay?" he said firmly, frowning at me. A shot of guilt echoed through me, resonating off my dampened bones at Jack's obvious disappointment. I shrugged and gave him a sheepish grin, hoping to make amends. "I know... but I couldn't help myself. You know how I am." Jack rolled his eyes but cracked a smile.

"Unfortunately, I do."

However, our attention was snapped away from each other and towards the grinning stranger. "I know everyone, Eva. And I know everything about them," he answered cryptically. Jack and I both stared at him dumbfounded. "What does that mean?" I asked, perhaps a little rudely. But his words didn't make no sense! The man chuckled again and clasped his hands together behind his back. "Don't worry. Perhaps you'll understand someday." He turned towards the farmhouse and gazed out over the land. "You know, it was on a night like this – three years ago – that it happened." I shot Jack a confused look that he returned.

"Three years ago what happened?" Jack asked, voicing both of ours question and putting his hands on his hips and slipping his thumbs through his belt loops.

"That the dead rose from their graves." I started and frowned heavily, my heart beat increasing. _The dead rose from their grave...?_ I thought in alarm. What rubbish! That sounded like somethin' people would tell their children to scare 'em straight. Jack lent forward slightly in confusion. "What're you talkin' 'bout, friend?" he asked. The enigmatic man shook his head. "Of course, you don't remember... I made sure of that."

I frowned at this and so did Jack. "What are you talkin' about?" Jack pressed again. The man turned his cool gaze from the house to the graves, staring particularly at John Marston's grave. "You'll be meeting him again soon," the man said, ignoring Jack's question.

"What? My pa?" Jack asked, his hands falling to his sides and clenching into fists.

The man shrugged before saying, "It's that time again. Time for the dead to rise and judge the living." After saying this, the man spun on his heel and strolled leisurely away, leaving a dumbfounded me and an irate Jack. "Hey! What're you talkin' 'bout?" The man ignored Jack's shouts. "Get back here! We have more questions!" With a hum he glanced over his shoulder. "Don't worry; all of your questions will soon be answered." He turned back and faced forward, continuing on his way away from us and into the heavy rain. "Do say hello to your father for me, will you?" he shouted back, not sparing us another glance.

Once the man disappeared into the rain I turned to Jack with a concerned look on my face. I knew how sore a subject his father was. "What was that all about?" I asked. Jack remained silent, staring after the man. I stood worriedly at his side, wanting to reach out and comfort him but not knowing how. After a while, he broke the silence. "I don't know," he began, his voice sounding distant. "But I don't like what he said."

"You mean the whole, 'dead risin' from their graves'? What a load of bosh."

"Yeah... that and he mentioned my pa." I fell silent as Jack and I stood under the tree, listening to the sounds of the storm. Normally I would have found the atmosphere of the storm slightly thrilling, but there was a certain twinge with his one, like an un-natural force was looming. I looked out at the rain and at our impatient and drenched horses. My horse looked miserable, hunched over and ears laid back, preventing droplets from rolling in. "Perhaps we should head on in," I suggested, motioning towards the unrelenting rain. Jack nodded and together we walked away from the graves and to the farmhouse. Jack's eyes lingering on his father's wooden headstone.

"You be headin' on in, I'll put the horses in the barn and give 'em plenty of fresh hay and feed," Jack said, taking the reins of our horses and squinting at me through the rain. He was drenched from head to toe, especially the head because his custom hat was now sitting on my head. I nodded and wrapped my arms around myself, expressing how cold I was. It was approaching winter and they could be pretty harsh here on the plains. This area was likely to be covered in icy snow and whipping winds. Jack and I parted ways, Jack heading with the horses to the barn and me turning and fleeing towards the inviting farmhouse.

Once inside, I set about making a fire to warm us and the house up. I grabbed some wood from the indoor storage and began to build the fire up inside the wood burner. Once it was lit, I warmed my hands on it and pulled Jack's saturated hat off my head. It had done little to protect me in the onslaught of rain. I sighed tried to run a hand through my hair, but my long fingers got entangled between the knotted tresses. I groaned and dreaded having to drag a comb through my hair. I was hopin' to have a nice relaxin' bath before tackling the untamed mess that sat upon my head.

I heard the door open and close and looked up, away from the hypnotic flames of dancing crimson and tangerine, to see Jack enter the room, shivering slightly from the cold. "It's rainin' cats and dogs out there!" Jack cried, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the front door. I giggled at Jack's overall downtrodden and soaked appearance. "It really is. Now, I suggest we get changed before we catch our death."

Jack nodded and mumbled in agreement before stiffly shrugging his jacket off, the material resisting and clinging to his body. Once Jack had managed to wrestle the coat off, he began to tackle his boots, which was a momentous task. The boots clung to his feet, the water and small space creating a glue-like suction. I observed his battle as the man began to grumble to himself, cursing the rain and cold, while his struggle with the boots wore on. His shirt that was under his jacket was also soaked, the water seeping through to his core. To my surprise and secret pleasure, It had gone see though. By now I was used to my wondering eyes and temptation and would discreetly observe him when he wasn't lookin'. However, just because I allowed myself to do this didn't mean I didn't blush and get embarrassed by it. I would still blush redder than a prostitute's lipstick.

Jack managed to pry one boot off his foot by pulling it with such force. I watched guiltily at how his muscles moved under his shirt. I felt the blush burn onto my face and quickly averted my eyes. Jack looked up after draining the water from his boots carelessly onto the floor and stared straight at me. "Perhaps you shouldn't sit so close to the fire," he suggested, pointing accusingly at the flames. I nodded and slowly stood up, moving away from the warm flow of the crackling fire.

I paced around the room, moving towards the window and peering out of it. The rain seemed to be letting up, but only slightly. Outside, the world was encased in blackness. The man's words echoed through my head, "The dead shall rise from their graves." An involuntary shudder wracked my body. I tore my gaze away from the window, scared I would see something I'd regret and turned to Jack. "Do you think..." I began, hesitating slightly. Jack looked up questioningly. "That the man was tellin' the truth?" Jack sighed.

"Ignore him. He was makin' up a load of lies that were best kept in books." Doubt was in my mind, eating away at my confidence.

"I-I know but..." I trailed off, losing my voice.

"Don't be scared, it aint gonna happen. And if it does I'm sure we can scare them off with your bed hair." My face dropped and I pointed accusingly at Jack.

"Hey! One time that happened, and it was the wind!" Jack just laughed at me, making me huff in playful annoyance.

Jack's attempts at cheering me up worked and my confidence grew back. 'Jack's right, that man was tellin' fibs.' I walked out of the room and into another, grabbing some towels to help dry us off. "Here," I said, throwing a towel at Jack that landed clumsily on his head. The fabric draped over his face like a curtain. He pulled it off, playfully glaring at me. I averted my eyes and giggled. A sudden crack of thunder illuminated the house before thunder tore the sky apart. It startled me and made me jump. My body was filled with adrenalin and I was ready to run or fight. Jack blinked momentarily before chuckling. "Calm down, It's jus' a little thunder an' lightnin'." I stuck my tongue childishly at him.

"It startled me, that's all."

My eyes cast over to the window and scanned the outside. Rain was still fallin' but had lessened more. I walked over to the window, pulling my hair painfully from its bun and drying it with as best I could. With my head to the side I stood so close to the pane of cool glass that my nose touched it and my warmer breath made foggy clouds on the glass. I linked and looked out through the haze. I thought I was an animal in the distance – perhaps a horse caught out in the open and separated from its herd. But this figure was too thin to be a horse, it was walking – or rather lumbering – on two legs and looked disturbingly human. I gasped and moved upright, staring at the figure. It was approaching the ranch and was tripping rather clumsily over a hole in the fence. "J-Jack..." I breathed, the towel falling from my hands. Jack answered with a hum. "Come look at this... now, please," I ordered my heart rate increasing. He man's words were haunting me, my mind conjuring up the worst case scenario. The living dead.

Jack came to my side and peered out of the window, rubbin' the back of his neck with his towel. "What?" he asked. I nodded towards the figure.

"T-there's someone out there. " Jack stared at the awkward moving figure and frowned.

"Probably some drunken fool got lost in the storm," he said, also dropping his towel haphazardly on the floor.

I swallowed, "I-I don't think that's a drunk." Jack sighed and nudged me.

"Now don't you go believin' what that man said. There's no such thing as the undead." Jack stepped back and moved towards the fire. I tore my gaze from the figure and crossed my arms protectively across my chest. "Could you g-go get rid of it?" Jack looked hesitant. "Please..." I begged, giving him the sweetest look I could muster but also with a hint of fear. He sighed. "Fine, I'll go get rid of the _drunk_," he said, stressing the words drunk. He began pulling on his boots.

"Thank you," I said, smiling at him.

Jack walked outside, the opening door allowing a whipping wind in. The wind curled around me, licking ever inch of exposed skin with an icy touch. I shivered but followed Jack carefully, my repeater clenched in my hands. My knuckles had turned white. Jack glanced back, givin' me a reassuring smile before walking under the cover and towards the figure. I was close now and clearly human. It walked awkwardly, with a limp, dragging its right leg. It was a man, in his late years and he was soaked to the bone, but it didn't seem to affect him. The man let out a low moan, an eerie sound that echoed through the air. Jack in front hesitated. "J-Jack?" I asked softly, coming to his side. Together we watched the creature draw closer. "What the..." Jack muttered, frowning heavily. "There's no way," he said. He advanced and jumped over the deck fence, into the rain. "You can't be the livin' dead!" Jack marched up to the man and stood with his hands on his hips. I panicked and was desperate to call Jack back. The words seemed stuck in my throat. "Jack, watch out!"

The figure seemed to lurch for Jack, but he luckily stepped back in time to miss the falling body. The figure collapsed to the floor but it stumbled back to its feet, uttering another eerie moan. Jack raised his hands, trying to show the man that he meant no harm. But this wasn't a normal man, this was something unnatural. "J-Jack!" I cried, running to the fence but stopping and pointing my gun. The creature swiped at Jack again, his hand reaching out and trying to grab him. Jack shouted to me, "Shoot the damned thing!" I complied and aimed for the head.

A bang resonated through the ranch before the creature fell dead on the floor, a last groan leaving it before it died. I climbed over the fence and jogged to Jack, the two of us staring down at the body. It had a sickly glow, with yellowed eyes, and blood dripping from its oddly angled jaw. Skin was missing from parts, showing the flesh underneath. Blood was smeared along with dirt and other grime over the rest of it, and a bone was protruding from its side. It made me feel sick to the core. Jack gasped out, "What the hell... was that?"


	2. Can this night get any weirder?

**A/N - Here's the next chapter of Where the undead roam (finally)! In this one we're introduced to a face we all know and love! But I won't tell you, so read on! Thank you to the reviewers; XPoisonusPurpleMuseX, Zoom and Shadow knight1121. And also to anyone who alerted. :) Thank you so much, and I hope you all enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think!  
><strong>**DISCLAIMER: I do not, nor will I ever own Red Dead Redemption or anything related to it. This fanfiction is purely fan made and I only own characters and places that are new. I apologise if any of this material offends any one. I assure you I don't mean to offend in any way, shape or form. This story will contain coarse language and graphic violence.**

Chapter 2 – Can this night get any weirder?

Jack and I had retreated inside after scrutinising the corpse a while longer. The image of a blood oozing mouth and wild, feral eyes was etched into my brain. I paced in front of the fire, my shadow casting big and tall on the wall opposite. Jack sat on a chair nearby, staring at the floor in shock. "I can't believe it!" I said, rambling to myself. "There's no way. It's all made up!"

Jack spoke up, "Perhaps we should go check out Blackwater." I paused and turned to him, my eyes wide.

"Blackwater?" I asked. He nodded. "B-but we're fine here on the ranch," I argued, laughing nervously. Jack raised a brow and smirked.

"I thought you'd like the adventure?" I blinked and straightened up.

"Of course I'd like the adventure! It's just..." I gulped as my confidence wilted at the mental image of the undead corpse. Jack chuckled and walked over to me.

"Look, there might not even be anymore of those... things out there." I considered it before sighing.

"Fine. I'd rather be stuck with you than by myself surrounded by half mad savages." Jack nudged me as I grinned.

"Shut it you. Go get your guns and get ready to saddle up the horses and do." I nodded and patted Jack on the shoulder.

"Will do cowboy."

Around five minutes later and I was ready to go. I stood in front of the door, hoping from foot to foot and clenching my right hand in my left. "Jack?" I asked. He emerged from his room and nodded, holding out his hat to me. I looked down at it before back at him. "What?" I asked. He waved the hat.

"Wear it. I don't want to have to listen' to your whinin'," he teased, ginning cheekily. I scowled and took the hat, placing it on my head.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I sighed, giving my own smile before reaching for the door. My hand touched the cool handle before I pulled it open to reveal a grotesque face, in the process of decaying, with its decrepit hand reaching for the handle.

All three of us paused in momentary shock, the creature before us looking bewildered. The undead had only one eye, the other seemed to be missing and instead an empty socket filled with grotesque liquid sat in its place. The skin was pale, with an unearthly green glow. The stench of earth and spoiled meat wafted off the creature, mixing with the smoke from the fire. A bandana stretched across its forehead, dirtied like to rest of its torn and creased clothes. The body stood stiffly, its jaw was looking at a slightly odd angle and its breaths were raspy. Perhaps most strangely were the gun holsters still around its belt. They were empty, but the creature's bony hands seemed to twitch towards them, a strange habit compared to the flesh crazed savage we had encountered earlier.

Snapping out of my frozen state, I slammed the door shut. I squeaked and backed away, pulling out my repeater. "What the hell!" I gasped, my heart hammering against my ribcage. Now was not the time to worry about profanities. Jack pulled out his own repeater and aimed it at the door. "Another one?" he sighed. Jack and I tensed as the door began to open. The sinister hand clutched the door and pushed it open, revealing the undead standing there, its head cocked to the side. Jack aimed his weapon but suddenly froze. I heard a sharp intake of breath and frowned with curiosity and glanced at him, eyes flashing from him to the undead, to him again. "What's wrong?" I asked. Jack didn't answer. The undead released a low howl. "Jack?" I questioned, concerned. Slowly, Jack stood straight and lowered his gun. His face was stoic and un-readable, a blank pallet. "Pa?" The undead turned to him and cocked its head. "Pa... Is that you?" The creature let out a confused sounding noise. I lowered my gun and looked at Jack in disbelief. Did he really believe this thing was his Pa?

"Pa!" Jack said, holstering his gun and moving forward. "It's me, Jack." A dawn of realisation washed over the creature, and a shocked look could be seen on its eroded, one human features. It gargled out a sound that I guessed to be Jack's name. Jack's deceased father was standin' before me, half decayed. I gulped and clenched my hands in each other. Jack looked his father up and down. "Look at you," he began. "Ya look awful!" Jack's father, John Marston, gargled and suddenly looked to me. I flinched and felt nervous under his gaze. This wasn't the ideal way to meet ones father. John nodded towards me and let out a questioning moan.

Jack quickly realised that we hadn't been introduced and that his Pa had never seen me before. "Oh. Pa, this here is Eva," Jack said, coming to my side. "Eva this is my Pa, John Marston." I nodded and smiled politely, ignoring the swirl of nerves inside me.

"Nice to meet you," I said, stepping forward and awkwardly raising my hand. He groaned and nodded, tipping his hatless head and shaking my warm, _human_ hand in his cold and undead one. I smiled and nodded back politely. His hand was bigger than mine, like Jack's. It was cold and I wasn't sure if there was even blood flowing through his veins anymore. We released hands and stood back. My smile dropped and I blinked in confusion as John Marston's bloodshot eye slid to the hat sitting on top of my head. Is eyes narrowed accusingly before he raised a crooked, half-decayed finger. A long, eerie moan resonated through the house as he pointed at the hat. I blinked and raised both hands to the hat, fingers clenching the brim. "The hat?" I asked, unsure. He nodded and groaned out, trying hard to form words. I caught a few, the words poorly pronounced and slurred. "Is... my... hat?" I blinked and guessed he was trying to say, "Is that my hat?" I was at a loss for words. _This is his hat?_ Jack came to my rescue. "It's mine now." His father turned to him.

A growl that sounded like "What?" Jack nodded.

"The hat belongs to my now." His dad scowled and growled. "You left it when you died so I took it," Jack explained, puffing his chest out defiantly. "It belongs to me now," Jack smirked. His pa stepped forward.

A series of groans sounding like, "I want it back." Jack shook his head and stopped me from plucking it off my head.

"Tough luck Pa," Jack smirked confidently. "But the hats now, and forever, mine." The two had a sort of stand-off, both trying to win the hat. I felt in the middle of the male dominance thing, because I was the one wearing the hat.

Jack, his father and I sat in the livin' room, the fire blazing with fresh wood. We had fell into silence , the wind outside whistling past the house. The storm had stopped but the sky was still a dark and daunting grey, with an unnatural tinge of green. I looked away from the infested world and turned to jack. He was sat, resting his elbows across his thighs. His pa was sat in another chair, roving his eye over his new body. The fire crackled, its flames providing us with warmth. Jack stared at the floor before suddenly jumping to his feet. He startled me and our eyes snapped to him. "Well damn!" he snapped, earning a disapproving growl from his father. "What's goin' on pa?" he asked, beginning to pace. "Jus' why are the dead resin' from their graves? Why did you rise? This aint right" It aint natural! This is something' I'd read in a book!" His father eyed his son carefully before exhaling a raspy breath. He tried to clear his throat then made a series of gestures with his hands. I was baffled by his elaborate pantomime and Jack frowned heavily. "What're ya tryin' to say?" he asked.

Mr Marston dropped his hands in frustration before trying again, following the same movements as before, like a rehearsed play, but this time much slower. Unfortunately, this didn't make it any easier to understand. "Pa... I still don't understand," Jack sighed, crossing his hands behind his head. I sat in thought before I hatched an idea. "Oh, Jack!" Both undead and alive eyes turned to me. "What about a pen 'n' paper? Do ya have a pad or somethin'?" Jack thought for a second before he grinned. "Eva, ya are a genius." I smiled with new found pride.

"I know," I answered, cockily. Jack opened his mouth to reply but an impatient growl cut through the air. For a split second I thought the growl had come from Jack, and my heart started beating heard. But I remembered that his Pa was sittin' nearby, waiting for a pad. Jack nodded, "Right, I'll go get one." He disappeared from the room.

It was a strange thing, sitting within five feet of a supposed-to-be-dead man, whose body was falling apart as the seconds went by. This night was the weirdest I had ever experienced, and it probably wouldn't get much better from here on out. I sighed and Mr Marston turned to me. He cocked his head to the side and groaned out a few words which sounded like, "How do you know Jack?" I suddenly felt nervous, talkin' to Jack's father, and my first thought was, _what if he doesn't like me?_ I was puzzled myself as to why I was more worried about his pa not likin' me than about the possible infestation that had the world in its clutched. Replying, I said, "My pa's a friend friends of the MacFarlane's and I came and stayed with them for a bit, and I got to know Jack through them." I noticed that as I mentioned the MacFarlane's, Mr Marston seemed to visibly perk up. He seemed to open his mouth to speak but at that moment Jack came back in, a thick, hard backed notepad in one hand and a pen in the other."Sorry I took so long," he apologised, handing his pa the pad and pen. "I had trouble findin' a fresh one."

His father seemed to have a hard time holding the pen. His digits looked stiff as they robotically grasped the pen in an awkward manor. He struggled with it for a few minutes before he adjusted to it and opened the pad. He began scribbling onto the paper, hastily jotting down something. Jack and I watched curiously. This was a strange sight indeed! An undead man writing! Once he finished writing his one remaining eye roved over the page and he then turned it to us.

The writing was poor and looked like a child's, or an adult who had only been able to afford a little education. I wasn't sure if Mr Marston's writing was always like this, and that he had only a little education, but judging from Jack he must of had a fairly good education. His writing looked hurried and the letters were poorly formed, but it was still legible. It read, "How are the MacFarlane's?"

Jack answered, "They're fine pa. Miss MacFarlane is still runnin' the ranch with her pa. They're doin' a fine job." His pa's shoulders visibly relaxed and he quickly scribbled down his next question. "What about you?" Jack blinked.

"I'm fine pa," he answered as little awkwardly. Mr Marston hesitated to write but did so anyway. He turned it to us.

"I saw ma's grave."

My heart thumped and a sickly feeling came over me. This was a horrible conversation to be having. I shifted in my seat awkwardly, averting my gaze to the floor. Jack fell in to a deathly silence. It remained this way until I cleared my throat. Eyes turned to me as I stood up. "I think I'm gonna go get some fresh air," I said, nodding to each man respectfully. I turned and began to walk from the room, the heels on my boots making annoying thuds. Neither father nor son said a word as I left, and as I quietly clicked the door shut.

Outside the world was still a sickly green, with a faint breeze swooping the landscape. I leant against the door for a few seconds, my head resting back on the wood. I suddenly remembered I still had the hat on, the object which Jack and his pa had so desperately claimed. I smiled and shook my head, thinking, _men._

I pushed off the door and walked down the steps and onto the wet ground. I decided immediately to check on the horses. Horrific scenarios where undeads had attacked and eaten my horse filled my horse, making my pace speed up. I kept checking, left and right, paranoia and fear encasing my mind. I was on high alert for any suspicious figures. Luckily I saw none, and exhaled with a little relief. I made it too the barn in one piece and un-bolted the doors, pulling them both open. Inside the horses whinnied, startled by my appearance but quickly settled down. They must still be highly strung from the storm. I sighed in huge relief to see that neither horse was eaten.

I smiled and walked over to my beloved stallion and reached over his stall and petted his nose affectionately. He snorted and gladly took my affection, before suddenly jumping back, the whites of his eyes showing, and rearing up a little and neighing. I froze and immediately turned my head to the doors. I saw no one there, just the farmhouse with the soft orange glow of house lights, with the tall looming pines of Tall trees in the background. I swallowed back my fear. Something must have frightened Dash. I shook my head and reasoned he was just in a skittish mood.

I cooed softly at him, helping to calm him down. He eventually settled a bit, calming enough to allow me to scratch behind his ear and on his chin. I then turned to Jack's horse – his golden Kentucky saddler. The stallion was pacing a little in his stall, and pawing often at the door. I looked at the horse pitifully and spoke softly to him. "Hey, hey, calm boy. Calm." My soft voice worked, and the horse eventually stood still, just occasionally shifting position or whinnying.

Suddenly a flash of lightning illuminated the barn, highlighting everything with a frenzied white. Thunder broke over heard, filling the world with an ear splitting boom. The horses' whinnies joined the thunder in a terrifying orchestra. The horses kicked out wildly, neither settling down despite my shouts. "Hey! Calm! Calm boy! Dash! Whoa!" They ignored me and continued to whinny and kick. I grew worried for them, dreading the risk of injury.

Suddenly, another flash illuminated the sky, sending the horses into a even bigger frenzy, and suddenly a hunched silhouette was cast into the barn. I squeaked in fright and spun to face the entrance to the barn. I was praying I would see Jack or his pa standing there, but I was wrong.

Dead wrong.

I terrified scream ripped from my throat as I pelted out of the barn, chased by a lumbering undead. I looked back over my shoulder to watched the blood thirsty creature sway after me, its hands outstretched and fingers posed like claws, ready to rip me apart. It was roaring horrific sounds, such I had never heard before. It was once a man, who was rather large, but now it was a crazed savage, with no concept of civilisation. My eyes were wide with fear and my heart was hammering in my chest.

I made the mistake of watching the creature as I was sprinting, instead of looking forward. My foot stubbed painfully on something, sending me to the ground. I scrambled on to my back, watching fearfully as the creature approached. I screamed again, calling for Jack. "Jack! JACK! HEELLLPP!" The undead lunged for me, landing on top of me. I brought my hands up and stopped it from sinking its yellow and crooked teeth into my flesh. "Argh! Get offa' me!" I yelled, trying to push the creature off me. The door to the farmhouse opened, the warm orange glow of the house casting over the undead and I, highlighting my horrified face and its bloody one. Jack and his father stood in the doorway, staring at me in horror. "H-help!" I cried, narrowly missing a clawed hand as it swiped past my face.

"God dammit!" Jack yelled, pulling out his rifle and shooting at the undead without hesitation. The creature let out a high pitched wail as it rolled off me. Without a moment's pause I was up on my feet and running for Jack. "J-Jack!" I cried, practically jumpin' on him and sheltering behind me. "T-that thing! It tried to eat me!" I cried, my breathing laboured and my hand shaking. "Why didn't ya shoot it?" Jack asked.

"I don't know! I just ran, didn't really think about shootin' it!"

We watched at the creature rolled on to its front and struggled to its feet. "What the... How is it still alive?" Jack asked, confused just as much as I was.  
>"Shoot it, shoot it, shoot it!" I chanted, patting Jack's shoulders. He aimed again and pulled the trigger three times, hitting it in the chest each time. It fell back but again got to its feet. "What! Why won't this thing die!" I shouted. Jack cursed and began to reload his gun. The thing stiffly advanced on us so I pulled out my revolver.<p>

"Dammit!" I aimed and fired, hitting it with every bullet in the magazine. But the thing still lived. "Good Lord! How is this possible?" I screamed at the sky, gritting my teeth. Jack sighed as well. "What the hell are we gonna do?" he asked. I opened my mouth to respond but an arm straightened out, took my Schofield from me and shot the creature in the head, knocking it to the floor, where it stayed down for good. I calmed down immensely once I saw it was dead for good. Jack and I turned to his father, our eyes wide. He stood stock still, strong and sturdy, my revolver in his hand smoking slightly. He was staring calmly at the undead, and slowly, he lowered my gun and handed it back to me. I accepted it while staring at him with awe. He was a man to be reckoned with, even in death.


	3. Blackwater

**A/N - Oh dear! This is so late! *o* I'm so, so, so sorry! I'll admit, I had a bit of trouble writing this one, and I think you can tell that by the way it's a little choppy and doesn't flow right. But, It was the best I could get out without leaving it another eternity. :L Hope you enjoy! Please review! Thanks to all my current reviewers! What Eva does in this chapter, in respone to going to Blackwater for the first time, is excactly what I did. :L I always panic in zombie games.  
><strong>**DISCLAIMER: I do not, nor will I ever own Red Dead Redemption or anything related to it. This fanfiction is purely fan made and I only own characters and places that are new. I apologise if any of this material offends any one. I assure you I don't mean to offend in any way, shape or form. This story will contain coarse language and graphic violence.**

Chapter 3 – Blackwater

We stood in shock and awe, staring at Mr Marston. My wide hazel eyes slid down from his grotesque, but strangely welcoming, face to my gun. He had killed the undead with such a skill that you only found in experienced men who had been through hell and back. I knew then that the man deserved great respect – not only as Jack's father but as an awesome force. Finally finding my small voice I said, "That was amazin'!" John Marston looked at me, unearthly groaned and nodded his head in a polite manner. Jack added, "Ya could've helped us earlier 'stead of jus' standin' there."Jack's dad let out a displeased groan at his son's criticism. I giggled slightly, despite my best efforts to keep it in. Jack turned to me, "What's so funny?" I quickly wiped my face of nearly all amusement and waved him off.

"Nothin'," I answered quickly. I then continued, "I was in the barn tryin' to calm the horses when that thing came chargin' at me!" All eyes turned to the corpse.

"Why didn't ya try shootin' it?" Jack asked. I paused. Why didn't I shoot? In my mind, I rationalised that fear was to blame; fear off the wild creature had paralysed me and left me deathly cold. I shrugged and offered my explanation. "I guess I just got scared." Jack raised a brow.

"If ya say so." He turned to his pa. "I think we should head off to Blackwater and see if there's anyone left alive." His pa nodded in confirmation.

"Should I go ready the horses?" I asked. Jack nodded but paused.

"Wait. We've only got two horses," he said, looking to his pa. "What about you pa?" John Marston seemed to think for a few moments before looking about the plains around him. He began walking in one direction, leaving Jack and I to watch his lumbering figure disappear off into the darkness. "Where ya going?" Jack asked. We got no reply, not even a groan. We both stood in silence, confused and straining our eyes to see him.

Out of the inky darkness trotted a horse whose figure seemed uneven and odd. Atop the horse sat a person who, when they got close enough to be bathed in the house's lights, turned out to be John Marston. I blinked as the creature whinnied sharply and threw its head as it came to a halt. The horse was clearly half dead. It made me shiver and recoil slightly, as its warm breaths wafted my way. Flies buzzed annoyingly around its exposed flesh, making the horse snort and shake. It looked to be a skewbald, but most of its skin was now ripped off, exposing the vermillion muscles underneath. The animal's neck was almost completely gone, just a few strips of flesh attached to the neck bones. Its head was a sickly green colour, with nearly the whole skull showing. Its eyes were now hollow looking sockets, with maroon spheres sitting awkwardly in them. Blood was smeared over the creatures remaining coat, and one leg looked almost completely shattered. Despite all of this, the horse stood perfectly normally, paying no mind to its injuries.

I stepped forward hesitantly while Jack recoiled with disgust. "What is that?" he asked, eyeing the horse. I put my hand out and allowed the horse to sniff it. It did so and then permitted me to gently touch its bony nose. It felt strange – the bone was lumpy and rough, with parts of flesh and dirt clinging to it. What I was most surprised at was the fact that the horse didn't seem in any way aggressive. It didn't try to eat me, like I had presumed. I hummed and took to touching it further up its head. I could see my reflection in the pools of its maroon eyes. The eyeball was moving around in the socket, as if the horse was looking around. It even blinked. "I- It doesn't seem to be in pain..."

John Marston dismounted the creature and pointed to his hand. Jack frowned slightly. "What?" His pa tapped his palm with his finger. "Oh. The notebook." Jack disappeared inside and emerged carrying his Pa's notebook and pen. He passed them to his father who began writin'. We watched him scribble away while the undead horse nibbled on the sparse grass around the house. His pa turned the pad to us and we read the dishevelled writin'. "Must go check Blackwater," I read aloud. Jack nodded slowly and opened his mouth to comment but the stopped when his father took the pad back and scribbled down more. His breathing echoed hauntingly and his one good eye roved smoothly over his writing. He turned it to us. New words were scrawled underneath.

"The undead... hoses? Oh, horses." I giggled slightly at my mistake but felt a tad guilty at mocking his writing. "-Aren't afraid. They come to me when I approach." I hummed in curiosity. The horses came to him? Was it because he was like them? Jack stepped back slightly. "I aint gonna ask how that happens," Jack sighed, shaking his head. He brought his hands up and rubbed his temples. "I think we jus' need to get goin' to Blackwater and see what it's like down there." I nodded and looked over my shoulder at the barn.

The three of us cantered slowly down the road to Blackwater. Dash was skittish but he still listened to my instructions. The open plains stretched before us, a grey wash against a stormy sky. The area was devoid of life. I caught a glimpse of the odd deer making a mad dash towards the forests of Tall trees, but apart from that an eerie aura hovered over the land. I couldn't help but clench my hands tightly over the reins and dart my eyes about. I was just waiting for a horrific undead to pounce out of nowhere and rip me from Dash. I shuddered slightly and huddled even smaller, hoping that I would make myself less of a target. Eventually, the black shapes of Blackwater loomed in the distance. The modern buildings stood tall and intimidating and I felt a lump rise in my throat. I tried my best to swallow it down but my imagination did nothing to help. As we slowed to a trot, Dash began to snort and slow. "Whoa," I said, trying to get him to go forward. The whites of his eyes were showing as he eyed the town. I frowned. This was not a good sign. Somethin' was upsettin' him. Jack and his father glanced back at me. "You OK?" Jack asked.

"I'm fine, but Dash isn't... I don't think we should go..." I trailed off; looking up hesitantly at the church we were passing.

"You'll be fine," Jack said, smiling at me. "If there are any of those things in there, then jus' ride Dash round and get somewhere safe." I nodded hesitantly and followed the two.

A sudden gunshot rang through the air, startling us and sending our horses skirting to the sides. "What was that?" I cried. More gunshots sounded, and a storm of fire was blasting from the town. We all stared intently in the direction they were comin' from. "C'mon!" Jack said, spurring his mount. He and his father galloped off, leavin' Dash and I behind. "Hey! Wait!" I cried, spurring my own mount and following closely. The two men on horseback disappeared as they turned a corner. I gripped tighter on the reins and gritted my teeth. What was in Blackwater?

I turned the corner and immediately Dash collided with _someone._ I gasped and pulled him to a sharp stop. I looked back at the figure lying broken on the floor. "Oh my dear Lord! I've ran over someone!" I cried in horror. I was about to dismount and slipped my feet from the stirrups. I stopped however when I watched the figure get shakily back to its feet and wail.

I felt all blood drain from my face. That was no human! That was an undead! The creature turned to me, red, bloodshot eyes and thick saliva running from its mouth. "AH!" I screeched, kicking Dash sharply in the sides. He whinnied and took off, hooves pounding on the cobbled stones of the Blackwater paths. "Run, run, run!" I chanted; fear now a firmly lodged lump in my throat. My horse complied and I watched as the undead's lumbering figure shrunk from my view. I turned around in my saddle and looked forward, only to nearly scream in more horror.

More undead were prowling the streets.

They were stumbling idly around, groaning to either themselves or each other. At the sound of my horse's hooves, the undead cocked their heads and turned sinisterly towards me. All blood was now totally drained from my face and I was sure I was as white as the snow in Tall Trees. "N-no...!" I uttered, my voice a feeble squeak. The creatures seemed to size up their prey before they charged, a mass of about 5 blood thirsty creatures all rushing towards the same target; me. Dash whinnied and reared up wildly, thrashing his hooves around as the creatures ran awkwardly towards us. I snatched fistfuls of his mane and held on but unfortunately my grip slipped and I fell, crashing back against the cold, unforgiving stones.

The wind was knocked from me and I lay stiff and stunned for a few seconds before my survival instincts forced me to my feet. Dash had charged off, bucking as he went but the undead paid him no attention. Their oozing eyes fixed on me. A woman dressed in chequered cloth with a dirtied blue headscarf was leading the predatory charge and screamed at the top of her lungs, inspiring a deep fear in me. I replied with my own, terrified scream and spun on my heel and sprinted away as fast as I could.

The undead were fast – not as fast as a fit living human – but their savage limbs still kept them quick on their feet. And they didn't seem to tire. It was like they ran on the fear that wafted from their prey. I was charging around the Blackwater streets, slipping in and out of alleys. Along my way I passed more undead, now collecting a mass of around 8. They ranged from high society bankers in their fine suits to an elderly woman, draped in her moth eaten dress and bonnet. I screamed out, callin' for Jack – for anybody. "Jack! Jack! Help! Someone!" I glanced back and noticed the wailing hoard was hot on my heels. I called out, but stopping when I heard a voice.

"Eva! Eva, where are ya?" I turned towards the sound and immediately ran towards it, gathering speed that I found in my legs, and putting a distance between the undead and I. "Jack? Jack?" I turned onto a dusty street, now facing down a long road where the rail station sat. On a rooftop, shooting down at 2 undead, were a collection of men. "People!" I cried aloud. "Sane, sound-minded people!" I sprinted towards them, waving my arms and shouting out. "Hey! Down here!"

Their attention snapped immediately to me and one figure leapt forward, peering over the stone ledge of the building. "Eva? Oh my good God! What're ya doin'?" It was Jack. I glanced back over my shoulder and noticed the undead had found me again. "What does it look like?" I yelled back, a fresh panic hitting me. I had slowed and needed a break. My chest was heavin' but I couldn't stop. If I did I would be torn limb from limb. And that was not a future I wanted. I glanced around, looking for somewhere safe. "Up here!" I looked up at Jack's voice and saw he had moved along, standing at the top of a ladder. "They can't climb!" he cried. _They can't climb?_ The words were so simple, yet brought with them the possibility of survival. I glanced back once more at the creatures, and forward again to see the last undead fall near the ladder. _Perfect!_ My path was clear. A tiny ray of hope shined through the smothering storm of doubt and bleak endings. My legs again turned into a sprint, and my boots pounded against the dust. A cloud was kicked up behind me as I ran faster than I ever had before to salvation.

My stride lengthened and I reached out, jumping the last distance to the ladder. My shaking hands clasped gratefully around the gnarled wooden steps and immediately I began to ascend. Above me, the men were cheering, willing me on, shouting calls of, "Quick!" and, "They're comin'!"

Hands reached down, and I had little time to look up and reach the top steps before the hands clasped around my upper arms and hoisted me up. I panicked a little, my stomach rising into my throat as I felt I was going to fall. But instead I found myself landing onto someone, safe and away from the wailing, screaming mass. I was barraged by questions such as, "Are you okay?" But I sat in silence for a moment, catching my heaving breath. I looked up and blinked to see Jack crouched before me. "Eva? Eva? Eva, are you okay?" I blinked slowly before nodding, gaining a strained smile.

"Y-yeah... I'm fine..." I gulped and peered backwards to see some of the undead had dispersed, looking for prey elsewhere, while a few stayed near the ladder, pacing and waiting. I turned back to Jack and saw how worried, strained and terrified he looked. "What were ya doin'?" he cried, shaking me by my upper arms. "Why didn't ya stick with us!"

"I didn't mean to! I just panicked and ended up fallin' off Dash and then I was bein' chased by... by... those God awful creatures!" I thrust a pointed finger backwards to the undead. Jack sighed and calmed his nerves and helped me to my feet. "Well... at least you're safe." Despite the terror coursing through my veins, a shaky, unsure smile spread across my lips. "Yeah... I'm glad I'm away from those hideous _things."_

I now looked at the other men who had resumed shooting down at the undead. I noticed Jack's dad was stood, firin' a rifle. Another two men who I didn't know stood with a generous gap between them and John Marston. _Of course, _I giggled mentally. _He's like an undead... jus' sane._ I noticed the men's doubt and observed as they occasionally sent sidelong weary glances at Mr. Marston. "They say there're still some survivors in this town." My attention was turned onto Jack now.

"Huh?"

"Those men," Jack nodded his head in the direction of the weary strangers. "They say there are still some people hidin' in this here town." I nodded slowly, assuring him I understood.

"So, we jus' need to kill all the remaining undead and then we can look for survivors?" Jack nodded and glanced over my shoulder.

"That's right. But they're runnin' low on ammo, and they don't seem to trust my pa..." Jack chuckled and shook his head, laughing at the irony. I giggled also.

"Well, ya have to understand why." Jack shrugged.

"I guess... now, why don't you help us kill those god-damned creatures?" he asked, grinning. I grinned back.

"You don't need to ask me twice!"

Jack and I took up positions in-between John Marston and the strangers, Jack on my left next to the men and Marston on my right. I pulled out my rifle and pointed it, aiming at the head of the chequered dressed woman. She paused and her head twisted, looking around her surroundings. I hesitated over the trigger. A pang of sympathy and pity ran through me and suddenly I didn't want to hurt the woman. She never asked for this plague to be unleashed on the earth. She was probably an honest Christian woman! _No!_ A voice scolded me in my head. _Look at her! She's a blood thirsty creature! She aint got no mind now! I should put her out of her misery!_ I exhaled and closed my eyes before pulling the trigger. My gun went off and the familiar smell of smoke hit my nostrils. I opened my eyes and saw the body of the undead woman sprawled across the dirt, blood leaking from her head. I frowned and looked away.

A few more shots ran through the air before it slowed and ceased. I lowered my rifle and looked down at the bodies. It was a gruesome sight. The bodies were twisted at odd angles, and some even twitched, earning them an extra bullet or two. The two strangers heaved, their breaths breaking the silence. I holstered my rifle and glanced at John Marston. He was staring down at the carnage, his steely undead gaze calmly surveying the area. He then moved, approaching the ladder and beginning to descend it. I watched him curiously as he climbed down before looking to Jack and the strangers. "T-thank you," one breathed out.

"Yes, Lord knows we would'a ran out of ammunition before we'd killed all these hellish spawn," the other gushed. I cracked a smile at the man's description of the undead. "You're welcome," I answered, giving them a smile.

"We're glad we got to help ya out. How many survivors do ya think there is?" Jack asked. The men paused in thought.

One hummed out, "Well, I reckon there's gonna be about 5 or 10. Maybe 15 if we're lucky." Jack and I nodded and walked to the ladder.

"We better get looking then," I said, my mood rising considerably since we had finally extinguished the undead.

We looked all around Blackwater, knocking on doors of homes and shops to see if anyone had taken refuge. We found, in total, around 23 people, which I was surprised at. I thought either a lot of people had been eaten or fled Blackwater a while ago, but I was still elated to find people had survived. I found a mixture of women and men, as well as one woman huddled with three children. My heart was pained with sorrow and fear for those poor children. We rounded the survivors and took them to the large bank or some sort of government building where they all gathered together and set up ways to protect themselves and ensure everyone was safe and had a good chance at surviving this nightmare.

Jack, Marston and I stood a ways off. I had found – much to my surprise and glee – Dash had circled back and was grazing a little ways off from the government building with Jack and his fathers horse. We whistled and the horses trotted over, ears perked. Once Dash reached me I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face into his mane, mumbling words such as, "Don't you ever run off again." I then checked him over for any injuries of any kind. He was scratch free. I removed my face and ran my fingers through his mane, removing any knots I found. "So, where we headin' off to next?" I asked. "I'm guessin' we're gonna check out some other towns." Jack nodded.

"Who knows how much worse it gets out there," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. I rolled my eyes up to his hat on my head, surprised it had stayed there.

"Here," I said, pluking it off my head. "You can have it back. I don't need it now." I smiled as he accepted it and placed it back comfortably on his head.

"Thanks." He stopped when he caught the glare his pa was giving him. "What? I told ya, It's my hat now!"


	4. Thieves' landing

**A/N - I haven't updated this in ages... and I am so sorry! I hope people are too annoyed! And this chapters somewhat short but I thought it was best to get it out anyway. I hope you all enjoy this! Please, please review!**

Chapter 4 – Thieves' landing.

We left Blackwater after helping the few survivors set up a defensive position in the hopes of keeping the town safe. We donated as much ammo as we could and in return John Marston was given a repeater and a pistol to keep – although the townsfolk hadn't been to keen to give a gun to an undead, no matter how sane he was. After I gave some (what I thought to be) motivational advice to a group of bewildered women we were ready to leave. It broke my heart to see the townspeople in disarray. Children's cries and women bursting into tears was all I could hear and see every-way I looked. I had to swallow thickly and quickly mount Dash, who had come back at my whistle, and canter out with the Marston's.

I remained silent until we passed the Church. Hoards of angry men bearing torches and rifles were storming the place, their eyes wide and their fists clenched. "What's goin' on?" I asked as we walked our horses past. There were many men digging up graves while others hollered and burnt the ones that were freshly excavated. "Burn these God-forsaken creatures!" one man cried at the top of his scratchy voice.

"They've gone crazy!" Jack added, raisin' a brow at the men.

"Can you blame them?" I replied, watching as a lone zombie ambled into the cemetery. It was quickly swarmed by the frenzied men and at once they began to kick, punch, shoot and batter the creature. I almost felt pity for it.

Almost.

We passed the Church and were clear of Blackwater. Eerily, I could see figures in the distant haze wondering the Great Plains in an ambled gait. I was jumpy and the reins carried this down to my mount. My eyes scanned hastily, left and right, to and fro. My mind began to work a mile a minute. Then, from the fear induced panic, one name became clear.

Pa.

Was my pa okay? Had these things reached Whitewoods yet? Jack must have noticed my state for he said, "I'm sure ya pa's fine." I blinked. He was far more observant than I gave him credit for.

"I know... but-"

"If he's anythin' like you he should be okay," Jack said with a comforting smile. I pouted, despite my nerves.

"What do ya mean 'should'?"

"Well, so far all ya done is get chased by these undead."

"Hey! It aint my fault I panic when chased by blood thirsty sub-humans!" Jack was distracting me to prevent me dwellin' on dark thoughts. I was grateful. "Where're we headin' now?" I asked, lookin' between Jack and his dad.

"The MacFarlane's," John gurgled out. I noticed the pad and pen were attached to the saddle. I perked up at this.

"Of course! Bonnie! And her pa! Oh, God, I hope they're okay!"

"I'm almost certain they are. They have the sense to set up a defensive position on the farm," Jack added. I nodded stiffly but it didn't calm my nerves.

We made our way to Hennigan's Stead, intending to head through Thieves' landing. John Marston exuded an aura that screamed power and intent. He was a man on a mission. He led, followed by Jack and I. His horse would occasionally leak a pungent odour of dead, rotting flesh that made my toes curl. Jack and I would share glances as we presses our nostrils shut.

The area around Thieves' landing was dark and smelt of swamp water, but today it was darker and it was smellier. I know – as we all did – that the settlement was sure to be riddled with undead that would require our assistance in eradicating. So, since we rode in near silence, I spent the last few strides mentally preparing myself as hooves on dirt turned into hooves on wood. My fingers flexed over the trigger. My arms trembled. My lip quivered.

An undead emerged by the water's edge, swamp goo dripping from its lower jaw-less mouth. I watched with wide eyes as John shot it dead in the head without so much as a glance. In the town were many, many more. The creatures roamed everywhere, from the Saloon to the pig pens. None of them went after the few remaining livestock that stood pressed into the far reaches of their pens. Remaining survivors crowded on rooftops and the first beckoned us over.

While we had a chance we dismounted and shot up the crooked ladder that sat propped against the wall. Jack let me go first before following closely – then John. I heard wails and groans below me as I climbed but daren't look down. The mounts trotted off, mildly worried. Again, the undead didn't harm a hair on their bodies. I reached the summit and was greeted by many hands and ushered voices. "Oh my! You're still alive!"

"Quick, get 'em up here!"

"Are ya'll okay?! Ya aint hurt nowhere?" I hesitated in the presence of so many people but was joined by Jack and John.

"Are ya'll all up? Are ya'll – Holy Christ!" A terrified yell sent me stumbling back and almost off the building. My heart leapt into my throat as I felt the building run out beneath my throat but Jack snapped up my upper arm in an iron grip and pulled my forward and steadying me. My ears were ringing and my heart was pounding, the adrenalin soaring through my veins. "Kill the God dammed-"

"Wait!"

A gun was pointed at John, ready to shoot at point blank range. As quick as Jack had grabbed me, he had cut the man short and now held the barrel of the offending gun tightly. The stranger fought for the weapon with trembling hands while his friends cowered together. "L-let go! He's one of th-them!" The man's voiced reached a higher octave than mine as he stared wide eyed and fearful at John. "No, that's my pa! Don't point no gun at my pa!" Jack snarled fiercely. The man's bug eyes flickered back and forth, between an angry Jack and a patient John.

Finally, he relinquished control. "W-well I aint one to judge..." he said very sceptically, his eyes glued to John.

"It's okay," I piped up, explaining the situation to them. "He's a good one!"

A woman in ragged clothing snapped, "There aint no 'good' ones! They're all a plague sent from Hell!" Her cheeks and eyes were red and swollen, as well as wet from tears that had fallen. Her chest was heaving in and out, her ribcage visible through her skin. "No, he really is. He's got his sanity and he's more than capable of thinkin', so he's an ally! He aint like them!" I motioned off the building where a hoard pounded on the wood of the shop beneath us. A few had lost interest and gone back to mindlessly milling around. Luckily the undead apparently couldn't climb ladders – which I was very thankful for.

The men seemed to have finally calmed ad accepted that John wasn't an undead. The woman, however, still panted breathlessly and paddled backwards until her back hit wood. "No, no, no, no! He's the Devil's spawn!" she cried, making a cross over her chest and looking towards the sky. She whispered prayers under her breath rapidly and it was then that I realised that a few words from me weren't going to shake this woman's faith. I felt the corners of my lips turn down and my eyebrows knit together. One man placed his gun down gently then went to the woman's side, now whispering softly to her, trying to comfort her in her delirious state. The other men muttered under their breath and turned back to the creatures below.

Jack, John and I quickly pulled out our own guns and began shootin', picking off undead one by one. There was a storm of bullets raining down on the moaning undead that swarmed by the shop. I felt pity rise like bile and I quickly swallowed it down. Pity wasn't going to keep me alive. Eventually, we had picked off the ones near the shops and turned our attention to those further off. "We need to draw them over," Jack said. "Otherwise we're jus' wastin' bullets." The men nodded in agreement but I hesitated, a thought comin' to me.

"But how we supposed to do that? The bullets and shoutin' aint attracting them."

Jack looked hesitantly around all of us before swallowing and saying, "Well who's the fastest?" It was clear what someone had to do and my heart rate increased and my palms became sweaty and I hoped – prayed – that it wasn't going to be me. The men looked between each other before one said, "I dunno. We aint exactly runners. Spend most our time unloading wagons." I swallowed nervously. "What about you guys?" I released a shaky breath.

"Who's the fastest outa' ya?"

"Me." All attention was snapped to me and immediately I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

"Eva," Jack begun, but I cut him off.

"N-no, it's okay, I guess. I am the fastest after all."

"But you can't go down there!" Jack objected. "You'll be killed! You can't-"

"Jack, I'll be okay, promise," I laughed, mustering up any cheerfulness I could. "So, I jus' run in there and bring back as many as I can?" The men nodded solemnly, wary of the glare Jack sent them. "All right, here I go."

"No! I said no, Eva, and I mean it!" Jack warned. I blinked at him, stunned by how much objection he had. But then, I was about to hand myself over on a silver platter to the undead. "Look, Jack, do ya really think I'm gonna let myself get eaten? If the worst comes to the worst I'll jus' climb a ladder or somethin' – I can swim." Jack stared intensely at me, our eyes locked.

"And you aint gonna do nothing' stupid?" he asked. I smiled and shrugged.

"Well, I can't promise you that." A glare cut me short. "All right, all right, I was jokin'. Honest!"

I made my way towards the ladder, my heart in my throat, and begun to descend after checkin' the coast was clear. Half way down Jack changed his mind. "Wait, Eva, get back up. I'll go, it aint safe enough-"

"But I've finally mustered up enough courage. I aint gonna back down now."

"Eva, this is your life ya playin' with!" Jack argued.

"I know, so I'm gonna b extra careful. I'm quite happy livin' – no offence Mr. Marston" John gurgled behind Jack and I took that as a 'don't worry'.

Jack turned to his pa, "How would you feel if that was ma down there?" John stared at Jack, his gaze giving off a deeper meaning, like he was waiting for Jack to do something. "Pa, it aint right sendin' her down there! She's gonna get killed!"

My foot placed down on the ground and I inhaled deeply. I spared one last glance upwards at the line of faces peering down at me. Jack's was by far the most frantic and distressed. "Eva! Eva! Climb back up!" he cried. I shook my head and bit down on my lip to prevent from squealing in fear. My eyes were darting around, looking out for any sign of movement. I was scared; so very scared. Adrenalin and fear pumped through my veins as my heart pounded in my chest. I could feel it beat against my ribs and hear the blood rushing through my ears. "I'll be fine," I uttered one last time, trying to convince myself as much as I was trying to with Jack.

I turned and began walking towards the other half of town, where the undead milled. "Eva! Evaaa!" Jack still hollered my name behind me. My breathing rose and became haggard. I wrung the hem of my shirt nervously. I approached the wooden bridge and stared across at the milling undead on the other side. I hesitated on the threshold of the bridge, contemplating my chances. Breath, I told myself. Keep calm and focus.

A sudden scream burst through the air from behind me, sending me into a panic. I felt my body flinch as I jumped out of my skin. I spun round, wide eyed and fearful, to see the saloon doors swing and an infected undead lope out all fours. The creature was once a prostitute from its clothing – which were now caked in blood and other horrid substances. It screeched once more and began rushing towards me, body bent and low to the ground, its arms occasionally swiping the air around it.

I gasped with fear and felt my stomach hit the floor. "Run, Eva!" I heard Jack yell. My body took the advice and I moved, runnin' from the creature. I had no choice but to run towards the undead hoard, trapped on the bridge by the whore. My legs carried me quickly over the wood and back onto solid ground. The undead behind me's screams caught the attention of others and soon I was weaving in and out, body trembling with fear. Their hands, poised as claws, snatched out through the air and only missed me by inches. I squealed with wide eyes as I felt the low, crawling undead prostitute lunge out at me and grab a few tendrils of my hair and tear them from my scalp. "Evaaa!" I heard Jack's yell echo across the town.

A scream began to bubble up in my throat. I kept it barely down as I weaved through more undead, a growing mob behind me. Fear coursed through my veins, sending every inch of me into panic mode. "Eva! Bring them this way!" Jack's voice cut through the growls and screeches of the creatures and I turned sharply, bumping into an ambling undead and knocking it to the ground. I kept running, feelin' bad but then remembering that these creatures were not human. All feelings of sympathy disappeared.

I tore across the bridge, stumbling over a crooked plank. I gasped and squeaked as I glanced behind me. Bloodied and yellowed faces screamed at me and their teeth craved for my flesh. This sent fresh flushes of adrenalin through my body and my legs moved faster. I never knew I could run this fast. I made it to the shop where the others were and immediately a maelstrom of bullets rained down on the creatures.

I made a beeline for the ladder, pausing at the bottom as, in my panic, I misplaced my feet. I cursed under my breath as I snapped my gaze up in time to see undead lunging for me. I forgot the ladder, knowing I wouldn't have made it up in time. Instead I tore off again, lungs burning and legs shaking. I pulled out my rifle, aiming as I ran and shooting as quick as I could. My accuracy was low but I didn't care. I just shot bullet after bullet at whatever was closest.

I circled round the shop, seeing it was clearer near the ladder. I wasted no time in shooting up the ladder as fast I could. I scrambled madly to the top, almost falling. Two hands shot down and pulled me clear of the ladder. I felt almost weightless as I was swung up and into the crushing grip of someone. I staid still and listened to my heart hammer against my chest. It felt like it was 'bout to burst right out. I could hear the blood in my ears and felt my stomach churn. "Eva," the chest I was pressed against said. "Don't you **_dare_** do that again." I blinked slowly, too stunned to speak but I nodded. What the Hell was I thinkin'?


End file.
